And She Hurt Me
by Boudicca Le Grave
Summary: All OCs. Uruk recalls an event which will change his life forever. M for Violence and Cursing. PLEASE REVIEW! Was written for class


The river frothed and bubbled a warning as the first hints of morning light tinged the sky a contemplative reddish-purple. The smell of burning flesh hung in the air and dark smoke billowed from behind the cover of a formation of several large, craggy rocks. The carcass of a starved fawn roasted on a spit over a roaring fire, encircled by ravenous beast-like men who eagerly tore half-cooked flesh from it. They found comfort in the smell of burning, rotting flesh and acrid black smoke. The creatures were of an old evil, birthed to serve corruption. They were the uruk-hai, listless beings bred from the darkness; the perfect killing machines which hungered endlessly for violence and flesh. They scoured the empty plains for food, and to prey upon hapless travelers. Insatiable was their need for brutality; villages were raided to ease boredom, travelers stalked and ambushed without the need to feed. These were the ways of my people. We breathed evil; and ourselves believed that we bore no emotions besides anger and lust. The personifications of malice.

"Oi, Gorsnik! Leave some meat for us or I'll be roasting you like a pig next." A beast seethed, pulling me from my contemplative feast on the fawn carcass. I blinked and growled through the half-chewed meat in my mouth, bearing yellowed incisors. "I made the kill!"

"By all the dead, that matters!" My attacker spat, wiping spittle off of his dirty face. "Would've had more than a stinking clove-foot and shitty man-flesh if you weren't such a flower-sniffer."

My lips curled back in a hiss, protesting his comment, but he was right. I sat down far away from the carcass; but not without shoving a few embers of the dying fire down his greaves with a chuckle as he howled and swore.

With a grunt I settled on the stump of the tree that had been cut down to make the fire, and settled into my thoughts.

I don't know why I didn't kill her.

That woman; drenched in blood, teeth bared, nostrils flared like a crazed horse. Hair soaked in sweat, blood, and other unspeakable things; eyes rimmed in white but screaming one thing: anger. I had never seen the young-folk in such a way; they screamed, they ran, and yes, they fought; but they did not fight like her.

In my blood-lust I had cut down several men who accompanied her; I had no intention to stop my onslaught simply because of her sex. In fact, our people preferred woman-flesh; it's tastier and more nourishing than man-flesh. And even though she was but a slip of a thing, she would've given us enough energy to move for days without hunting again.

As I approached her, drenched in her companions' blood, she sent away the beast she had been riding and brandished a dagger. I laughed, saliva bubbling in my throat, and ambled up to her; so arrogant and sure of a bluff. A scream ripped the air; her dagger flew and embedded into my arm. My snarl cut through her battle cry, and my fist slammed into her gut, knocking the wind from her lungs and causing her to collapse over my arm with a strangled gasp.

I thought I had won, but the little shit's teeth ripped into the flesh of my arm good and deep. I could not bite back the startled yelp that leaped from my throat. I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked until she let go of my arm.

I realized then that she was no normal woman of the young-folk. A chunk of my flesh dropped my her mouth, her face now smeared with blood; dripping from her teeth, lips, and chin. Her eyes flashed a startling white. So fascinated I was with her, that she began beating and scratching my face without me noticing until the very last minute. One of her nails skidded across my eyelid and I yelped in pain, grabbing her face and pushing her from me, my free hand touching my eye. It hadn't popped, but I was furious.

I had lived many years for a reason. I am young for one of my people, but smart. I survived with barely a mark when elders had fallen from battles with warriors. But here was this woman, a thing for our entertainment, considered harmless even to her own kind, and she hurt me. I wanted to know what she was, for even though she appeared as a woman of the young-folk, I wondered if her blood was tainted with something darker.

I fought her to the ground and tore her dagger from my arm, using it to pin her to the ground by her tunic. I pinned her arms down with my legs, sitting on her chest, and grabbed her chin. She bared her teeth to me, but they did not carry an ounce of resemblance to those of my people. Her hair and eyes maybe, but her soft form was not at all like the bodies of the she-beasts of our people, who were almost as well-muscled as the he-beasts. She didn't resemble one of my kind, but her spirit burned like one of us, and that puzzled me.

Suddenly, I couldn't imagine myself devouring... whatever the hell she was. With the roars of my horde behind me, catching wind of the dead blood polluting the air, I knew she would be slaughtered just like the others... If she was lucky. I wouldn't be able to stop the others from taking her; eating her or doing what they will with her; it wasn't even possible for me to present the odd thing to the leader until the blood-lust had dissipated from the whole group.

I knocked her skull against the earth, and all breath escaped her. I had sent her into the realm of nightmares, and she'd stay there for quite some time. It was my only chance to keep her from escaping at this moment.

"Oi, Gorsnik! Couldn't leave any fun for us?" Called several from behind, followed by compliments stringed together with curses in garish happiness.

But I was gone, swallowed by darkness, hidden from my horde. I ran until I found a overhang in the huge cliffs of rock bursting forth from the ground, and stuffed the woman in it to hide her. I sprinkled dirt over her body and rubbed it into her skin to mask her scent from the others, and left to rejoin the group.

Everyone thought I had lost her, as they had witnessed a woman with the warriors; but as I sit here now, I smile because I know she is still there, in that hiding place, unspoiled. Maybe I have more emotions than anger, or maybe it was because of my own stupid curiosity that I did not kill her. Maybe it was both.

I watched my fellows fight, and thought of her, hissing and drenched in blood.

A smile.


End file.
